


Letters From London

by ohthedrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Aurors, Drarry, F/M, Fluff, Healer Draco, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, London, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Sad, Smut, Stress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7743946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthedrarry/pseuds/ohthedrarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hidden away in an box are letters. Hundreds of them. The handwriting is crisp with a signature shake that can only belong to the one & only Harry Potter. The question is, will Draco Malfoy ever receive them?</p><p>Excerpt:<br/>Draco waited for word from Harry, but it never came. He spent his nights with his hands in his pockets, wandering the streets. Dublin had always been on his list places he wanted to visit, and it was the first place he went after leaving home. He liked listening to Irish accents, especially when the speaker was completely intoxicated. He liked the way the words fought over each other on their way out, slurring themselves until nothing but a jumbled mess fell out.</p><p>He tripped slightly on a loose cobblestone in the side walk, and he shook himself awake. It was nearly three in the morning and he was growing more tired by the minute. He ducked inside the first inn he came to, and checked in to a dirty old room. The furniture had a thin layer of dust, a few of the floor boards were loose, and the bathroom seemed downright unappealing. Taking his wand in his hand, he cast a cleaning charm. He thought of the first time he'd learned that spell, and of Harry, and his heart went rigid in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters From London

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually really, truly excited to see where this story takes me... it's based off an idea i had for a real novel, and i wanted to test out the theory on a fan fiction first. so, please stick with me while i try things out, mess up, and see what this story really could be.

Draco stood with his back to Hogwarts, his heart heavy in his chest. Spread out before him was the Forbidden Forest in all its glory, the dark tree branches a stark contrast the setting sun beyond it. The sky was filled with pinks, purples, and oranges, and a few clouds dotted the horizon. It was horrible, he thought, that the sky had the audacity to look so beautiful while Hogwarts lay in ruins.

Smoke and the smell of ash were carried up to him with a light breeze. It blew through his hair and rustled the collar of his shirt. He felt dirty. Dust and dirt had found their place on his clothes and beneath his fingernails. Blood was dried on his pant leg, and his cheek had a small cut on it across his cheekbone. It didn’t sting anymore. None of his cuts and bruises hurt anymore. He was numb.

He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look at the mess he’d made. There was no way that he could look at Hogwarts – the place that had been his home – with the Dark Mark now silent on his forearm, and bodies littering the grounds. He felt sick to his stomach. If he saw the body of anyone he knew, it would be the end of him. He would send himself off the side of the cliff, he was sure of it.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to sit down. He allowed himself to think of his parents, but only for a few short moments. He let the last image he had of them wash over him completely. Their eyes open wide in shock, their bodies spiraling through the air. He’d meant to go with them to Bulgaria to hide. He’d meant to keep ahold of the portkey. He’d meant to finally do something right.

But, at the last second, he’d let go. He’d watched as his mother screamed out his name and his father stared at him helplessly. They’d reached out to grab him, but it was no use. Just as soon as he’d let go of the portkey they were gone.

Something burned his eyes and his throat felt as if it was closing up. A sharp, electric energy began to fill his chest and spread outward, causing his fingers and shoulders to shake. He wanted to tear into his chest with his bare hands and let that feeling out. He couldn’t stand it.

What had he done? He’d destroyed everything. People died because of him. So many people… so many magical creatures. Centaurs, giants – countless other beasts – all dead. Professor Lupin and his wife, Harry’s last ties to his parents and Sirius – dead. Professor Snape, who’d made the unbreakable vow to keep him safe and had killed Dumbledore so that he wouldn’t have to – dead. Ron Weasley’s brother who, if Draco was being honest, was incredibly smart and an amazing wizard – dead. His aunt and mother’s best friend – dead. Harry, his Harry, almost dead.

Harry. All at once, Draco lost all sense of himself. He didn’t know where he was, who he was, or how he was going to get out of the mess he’d created. He saw Harry’s body limp in Hagrid’s arms, and remembered the way it had felt to stand helpless on the stone steps. Lying at the Manor hadn’t been enough. Leaving the school and taking the Death Eaters with him so that they wouldn’t harm Harry hadn’t been enough. Begging Harry to go into hiding even though he knew Harry wouldn’t hadn’t been enough. Harry had saved him, and he’d thrown it all back in his face. Harry had loved him, and he’d destroyed that love.

Draco wished that the Dark Lord hadn’t died. Maybe then he would be put out of his misery. He didn’t mind if he’d be tortured for days on end. He deserved it. He deserved every ounce of pain, regret, and guilt that he felt deep in his heart. He’d never felt this low.

A snapping noise startled him, and Draco jumped to his feet. He hadn’t realized that he’d grabbed for his wand but he stood, arm raised, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

“Draco?” Harry stood before him, hands up in defense. Draco immediately turned to the side and threw up. He was in too much pain to be as embarrassed as he should have been. A hand was on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. He felt dizzy. “Draco, sit down.”

Draco obeyed, closing his eyes as Harry helped him to the ground. Sweat ran in droplets down his temple and made his shirt stick to his back. He couldn’t stop shaking.

The pair sat in silence for what seemed like years. Draco stayed with his eyes closed and let Harry rub his back. He didn’t make a move to touch him, or even look. He worried that, should he try to reach out, he’ll discover that Harry isn’t there at all. Perhaps he was making it up to try and make himself feel better.

“Here,” Harry pulled something out of his pocket. “Eat this. You’ll feel better.”

Draco slowly opened his eyes to see Harry holding a piece of a chocolate bar out to him. He remembered the first time Harry had offered him chocolate to make him feel better. It was the night his father had been sent to Azkaban.

“Thank you,” he forced out, taking the chocolate. He feared eating it would make him sick again, but he couldn’t say no to Harry. No one ever said no to Harry. You couldn’t. He had a way of staring at you with sincere eyes and a kind smile that made you practically swoon. Harry’s wish was everyone else’s command. Especially Draco’s.

He laid down on the grass on his back and chewed the chocolate, feeling it melt in his mouth. His stomach churned the slightest and then stopped as the shaking in his fingers began to slow.

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked when he could open his eyes without wincing in pain. Harry shrugged, his knees pulled up to his chest. He played with his wand, turning it over in his hands as he prepared to answer.

“I needed a moment to myself,” he replied. “Professor McGonagall is looking for me. She wants me to help lead the reparations of the castle. Hermione and Ron are helping her…” he took a deep breath. “Identify and move all of the bodies.”

Draco nodded his head, feeling ashamed of himself. He wanted to offer Harry some kind of sympathy or encouragement, but as usual he found himself unable to be of any help.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked. Draco heard himself let out a small laugh.

“My parents went into hiding,” he said. “I was supposed to go with them. I let go of the portkey at the last second.”

“Why?”

Draco didn’t have a good enough answer. Not one good enough for Harry, at least. Draco knew enough about Harry to know that if he didn’t have a good reason, Harry would shame him for it. Harry would tell him that he was a fool to leave his parents behind. He would be upset that Draco was putting himself in obvious danger. He was a Death Eater, not just a boy. He would be hunted and thrown into Azkaban with the others.

“I couldn’t,” Draco finally told him. “I mean, how could I? Is that all that I am now? Someone who runs away from their problems? I did awful things, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take responsibility for them. I deserve whatever I get.”

His words hung in the air between them. Harry didn’t turn to look at him, and Draco couldn’t look away. His heart swelled with the thought of what loving Harry was like. It was brilliant on its best days, and everything he needed on its worst. Loving Harry was like falling in love with himself. He saw the parts of himself that Harry loved in a new light. He’d always hated the way his hair looked when he woke up, but he let it go a while before putting gel in it because Harry loved running his fingers through it when he first woke up. He never liked the way his lips were shaped, but Harry’s kisses felt like magic and they couldn’t be all that bad if Harry liked kissing them so much. He hated the way he kept his feelings bottled up inside, but Harry always smiled at his “pouty face” and peppered his face with kisses until Draco told him what was wrong.

And all of that was over.

“I hate it when you talk like that,” Harry whispered. “I don’t blame you for anything that happened. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was,” Draco shook his head. “I chose to let them mark me. I chose to pick up my wand and fight. I chose to fight alongside them. I-”

“Stop it!” Harry shouted, causing Draco to jump. He watched as Harry shook his head and turned to face him, eyes filled with tears. “You changed your mind. You stopped. You let me save you. You saved me. You did what you had to do to stay alive. I don’t blame you for that. I don’t blame you for any of this. Voldemort was evil, and he used you like a pawn. It was either play his game, or die. And if you hadn’t played, well. You know what would have happened. So don’t say it’s your fault. It’s not.”

“You’re too good for this world, Harry,” Draco reached out to touch him but stopped. “You’re too good for me.”

“I’m going away,” Harry said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here. I can’t continue to be with you, either. Too much has happened. I’ve lost everything.”

Harry’s voice faded out as a ringing sounded in Draco’s ears. He felt lightheaded, but his head was heavy. It was like his mind was a block of lead; dense, black, but made up of nothing of substance.

“I…” he tried to find words to say, but neither his mouth nor his brain was working. He stood up and stumbled a little to the left at the effort. “That’s…”

“Draco? Draco, please,” Harry moved to help him sit down but he shook him off. Draco was suddenly angry. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the chest. His vision felt blurry, and he could hear his heart pumping in his chest, but he was alert. He was alive. His fingers felt numb, and his blood felt boiling hot, but he was calm.

“Don’t,” he said very plainly, standing just a little too straight. He couldn’t see anything; not even Harry’s face. Perhaps, it was better that way. “I’ll just be going now.”

Draco started to try and walk, but Harry reached out to grab him. In a moment, his wand was in his hand and he was standing five feet away.

“I said, don’t!” he yelled. He could barely hear himself speak. “I get what this is. I get what you’re saying. I’m trash, aren’t I? You can barely stand to look at me, can you? Because I’m a monster? I took everything from you, I get it.”

“Draco, that’s not what I-” Harry looked broken, but Draco couldn’t bring himself to stop. His heart felt tight, but he had to keep going.

“I know what you meant, Harry,” he lowered his wand. “So, please. Give me the curtesy of being heartbroken in peace.”

Draco planted his feet firmly on the ground, and thought of somewhere else. He conjured up pictures of drunken Irishmen, busty women with more than enough alcohol to share, and a place without heartbreak. Just before his feet began to sink through the ground, he heard a crackle and a pop. He opened his eyes to find himself completely alone, staring at the remains of Hogwarts. A leaf twirled in the air where Harry had once bean, and it drifted away in the breeze.

He shook his head, and let himself sink away to somewhere else. Somewhere better. Somewhere safe.

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to comment and bookmark this if you enjoyed it. i'll be trying for weekly updates if all of you like it so much! and feel free to follow me on tumblr: draqo-pctter.tumblr.com


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